White Brume
by AlFlowerrise
Summary: She's mine. But she's the one to blame for this - E/B, onesided J/B. Three parts.
1. Oxygen

**White Brume**

_she destroys you Jacob_

Edward/Bella, onesided Jacob/Bella_  
_

Disclaimer: I don't own Twilight. If I did then Jacob would be mine, eheh

N/A: My first attempt of writing Twilight, so I excuse for any lame-ness. Especially when it comes to Edward since he's too awesome to be portrayed by me. Also, this will be in three parts. And if you find some grammar- or other mistake, please tell me and I will correct them :) Thank you for reading!

* * *

Rigid drops from the leaves, falling in the air, down on the ground, like transparent portals. Portals to the real world. The world where none of us are living. None.

1: Oxygen – Edward/Jacob

In a strange, almost uncanny way, I feel regret.

For what? you may ask. And it's a coherent question. And it's now I know that I can't ignore it anymore.

I don't feel regret because I love her, since it's something I haven't chosen. It just arrived one day and made me throw away everything (honor and acumen) just to linger my thirst (raw, bottomless _thirst_) for her. The moment I saw her, the moment she looked back, everything fell. The edge of the metal cut through me, exposed me. And it feels so _right_. It's dangerous, it's exaggerated, it's wonderful.

It's _right_. It has to be. Has to. It's painted in pink and pink is the blissful color, erasing, diminish the thick fog.

But the way she treats him is wrong. It's wrong, wrong, _wrong_. She can't do this. She can't.

And I've ignored it for far too long. So long that it grew deep and wide, to when it's too late to look the chest. The monster is out. And it kills him. Slowly. Maybe it already has.

But I know that this is my weakness. That I ignore. He tells me this all the time – with his eyes. That I'm foolish. Blind. See everything in white. Pure, delectable _white_.

I often shut my eyes instead of realizing that she sometimes makes mistakes that make everything fall and knots swimming in my throat, sometimes she acts so oblivious, stupid and selfish that I wonder if she thinks that I always will be there, moving her out from the critical spot and remove every inch of the guilt she has inside.

Oh, she does, she does, she does.

She can't do this to him. She can't. He loves her and wants to do anything for her. He can pick down the stars in the starry-sky and grow wings to fly if she wants. Someday he has to understand that it's hopeless, it's over, he can't do this anymore.

I look at him when he surly walks around in circles; the blades of grass dancing when his paws gently touch the ground, narrowing my eyes as I try to reason with myself what exactly I feel about Jacob Black. Before, I highly disliked him since he was a menace for my struggle fighting for Bella but now – let's just say that the thoughts have merged and transformed into something else. I still don't like him, but I care about him. The stench from his fur stings in my nostrils, it's fresh, it's there but I try to ignore that as I shut him an angry glance, which he ignores with a snort. Come on, I haven't call him out in the garden just to admire his 'walking-around-in-a-circle' skills. I'm not the one to be wasting time on nothing, despite the fact that I'm a vampire, who can play with time like fingers dance on a harp.

"Do you think you're funny, Jacob?" I calmly ask and put my hands in my pockets. He stops; his warm, brown eyes look as me, still with that sarcastic sparkle in the irises that he seems to be born with. At least when it comes to me. And I know he has reasons, I took away the pearl from the clam and threw him the rest. And what would he do with an empty clam, filled with thin water? Nothing.

_Go away. I don't have anything to do with you. _

He moves and falls because the path he believes in doesn't exist. Only in his dreams.

It's like a game. We both love her. Before; I only wanted her to be happy, to smile. And parts me still want that. But I know that Bella spreads out like thin, thin dust that she may love Jacob too, and he grips to the branches that soon crack and make him fall to the ground.

_I love you, Jacob. _But it isn't the same.

He wants her to change. Before I thought it was selfish. That he had to accept the truth. But it's hard to accept the truth when someone is eager to change it, to paint starry stars in the night that makes everything look bright and colorful but in reality only covers the gray. It's hard. It is.

Jacob looks at him, tilting his head as to say _and why would I listen to you, leech? _He probably is.

I walk forward and hit him lightly on the nose with the side of my hand, making him stop. He stops, then transforms and still looks at me with those brown, brown eyes that surely give him an appealing look.

But Bella doesn't see it, Jacob.

"What do you want?" he growls, hands in his jeans, carefully leaning backwards to the house wall behind. His lips are angrily pouting down. He's full of despite and wrath. Maybe that isn't a surprise. These things tend to do that to you.

I slowly realize that this isn't a good idea. I have nothing in common with him. Besides from Bella.

(And that's everything.)

"Talk to you," I inform him unnecessarily, as I already told this to him back there.

"I don't want to talk to someone like you," Jacob says, copying the voice of a three-year-old kid, probably because he wants to piss me off. It does work.

"_This _is important", I state firmly, as the cold wind from behind touches my back. I can tell that it's cold since it usually is warmer when the sun shines on the baby-blue heaven. Cold. The cold temperature doesn't seem to affect him at all. As he walks closer to me I feel the smell rise, soon it's so near and present that I feel the urge to shove him away. The smell of flesh, skin and blood is too near and raspy (and barbaric.) I've heard from Bella that humans tend to enhance different smells. I don't. I only like pretty smells, like her smell. But she's human. I'm not.

"Oh yeah? Because it's you, the all-oh-so-important-genius that knows everything?" Jacob rolls his eyes and giggles, as he's being unbelievable funny right now.

(He isn't.)

His breath hits my face and I walk back, hitting the solid leaves with my shoes. Hear it crack.

(I erase the leaf like I erase his dignity.)

"You have to forget Bella."

He stares at me, his brown eyes shouting daggers that almost feel shilling. Just because I'm a vampire doesn't mean that I'm immune to damage, especially on the emotional kind that I've in all my life learned to ignore but not to forget.

_He thinks he knows. _

Usually, I feel exposed without my gift of hearing people's thoughts. I don't like to guess, it's easier to judge people by their thoughts, since words tend to be drenched in lies. But not this time. I don't want to hear it, the raw, simple hatred that lingers by the fact that I took Bella from him.

I don't want to hear it.

He knots his hands into fists. "Why telling me this? Why would I listen to you, bloodsucker? You're a liar that don't even are good for her."

_I want Bella. I want, I want…_

I wave his comment away like an irritating fly. "Please. I've enough of that discussion. But listen; both of us know who Bella has chosen. We can't change that. And you have to move on."

But I know that my words are meaningless. It's empty and hollow and he looks at the ground, his under-lip pouting. His eyes are bloodshot and broken and for that moment I loathe Bella's attempt of making Jacob believe that she loves him and wants him to stay. She can't do this to him. I understand that it's hard for her. But she still can't do this. Jacob acts rash and doesn't know about the line you can't cross over but he's a person with feelings. Like me. I too have feelings. We all have.

(And it's the feelings that drench us.)

"I can't. I love her." And the words are dripped with sadness, thick sadness, thick, thick sadness that drenches everything.

"She wants me", I murmur matter-of-factly. He flinches. "But she does wrong. She hurts you. Doesn't she?"

"I don't want to talk about this with you", he snarls angrily, gritting his teeth. Small puddles foam down his cheek, like rain. He tilts his head and turns his spine at me. "You hear me?" he exclaims and I jump back, his anger affects me more than I thought.

(It's the raw and undefined passion of broken hearts.)

"I'm sorry, Jacob", I say, with a voice I thought I would never use to him.

"Why? You're happy. You're fucking happy. I'm not!" he screams, then transforms into a wolf again, running off to the woods, with the tail between his legs, before my reply vanishes into thin air, disappearing into the white brume where it is forgotten, long lost in the empty corridors.

_I hate you, Edward, I hate you._

(He's broken. She made him like this.)

_I need you, Jacob, I need you._

She does.

(But that isn't the same.)

* * *

end


	2. Refreshments

Disclaimer: I don't own Twilight

The next part! But oh, just so you know, this fic may seem a little cruel to Bella and that is my intention and if you don't want to read about that you don't have to. Thank you for reading and please tell me about my mistakes! :)

* * *

Rain pours. Down the window-pane. Down the heaven. Creating holes. Big, black holes.

That consumes. That kills.

2: Refreshments - Edward/Bella

"Bella, I talked with Jacob", I say and I see her eyes growing wide as she's moving the spoon around in the pot. The smell rising up from the soup smells… peculiar. Like a mix of tomato and cheese, not that I remember that well what it tastes. It was a long time ago. It's funny how your memory seems to blur away, especially when you find someone to hang everything on.

(Bella.)

"I thought you two didn't get along", she tells him and smiles, that sweet, sweet smile that erases darkness. I walk forward and lay one arm around her waist, watching her smile slightly and looks up to face my eyes. I so like her.

(It consumes, consumes, consumes.)

"We don't. But I had to."

She gives me a look. She knows I'm up to something. The chipping sound of the bubbles in the pot only elevates the feeling that I'm going to move on prohibited territory. I don't want that.

But I can't move back. I painted a circle on the wall with the broken crayon and I can't erase it. It's there. It won't go away.

"What do you mean, Edward?" she asks, like she has all right to do. Her eyes linger on the stove, covered by a thin sheet, making her look so far away from me. I hate myself for doing this, since she's my everything, she's brighter than candles, brighter than the moon. Still, she puts her claws in Jacob's fur, making him bleed, bleed, bleed. He acts like he's dead. Walking around, trying hard to fit with the group, but losing the daily schedule that makes him Bella's 'best friend'. He doesn't act like Jacob anymore and no matter that I've grudges with that stupid and childish personality before it was still better than this transparent copy that fumbles in the darkness where there's nothing to see.

"Bella…" The sentence dies and I close my mouth again. I can't hurt her. She suspiciously raises a eyebrow while she's spinning the spoon around in the soup; she has understood by now that I'm not the one to fill silence with nonsense, more less saying things that don't mean anything. But all this time with her, so much attempts to damage, destroy, corrupt the most pressure treasure I ever had, it never has occurred until now how unwillingly and scared I am for stamping on her feet, pointing out _her _mistakes.

And then the knife comes flying. Right for her.

"You can't do this."

She stares at me, dropping the spoon. It probably gets drenched by extraordinary materials. I find myself looking at it to avoid her gaze, her brown eyes turning black, turning absent, turning…

I don't even know anymore.

"Doing what?" Her voice is cold, raspy and broken. "Tell me."

"It's about Jacob", I finally say, remembering the tears falling down on the algidity-covered blades. "Do you understand what's happening to him now?"

She bits her lip with her chin trembling. She knows. All too well. She doesn't even need to hear this. But I can't be like a passive witness anymore, standing, staring and let everything fall, because Jacob means more to Bella that she wants to admit and losing him it's like pulling apart an arm; it will never be the same again. "What about him? He knows that I'm–"

I softly interrupt her and touch her pale cheek with my fingers. "He knows that you have chosen me. Of course. And I know this is hard for you." Why do I always tell her that, like she doesn't have a responsibly for anything? Surely, this must annoy her, considering how drastically she hates pitying. "But I think… I think it was a mistake, telling him that you love him–"

She clubs my hand and turns her head to the wall behind her, her brown, messy pony-tale slapping my face. The sweet, Bella-smell, never occurs this present when she argues with me. Probably since she remembers me that she's human. Yet.

(Like I want her to be. Since she's perfect. Like she is now.)

"How could you know I told him that?"

"Love, I'm not stupid. It's not easy telling friendship and love apart, at least not after I… left you. And he seems easier than me. I can hurt you. He's not human but he's more human than me."

Always, always I blame myself instead of her. But it's easier that way. Pulling the sheet over myself, since I can bear with the pain. I only need her. Her and my family. But she needs many things. Things that I can't give her. Humans need to laugh, to play childish gabbers, to forget trivial matters and no matter how much I try I can't give her that. Jacob can.

(But he loves her. Loves her like I love her. And she can't ignore that anymore.)

"But I don't want him. I want you", she murmurs, with jagged icicles in her voice. She doesn't like when I accuse her for something, when I'm not there to catch her when she falls and although I don't like to admit it it's one of her more negative sides.

(But I can deal with it. Jacob cannot.)

"I know. But you love Jacob too. You said that to him. And you can't do that."

She clips with her eyes and refuses to meet my eyes. Doesn't want to admit that I'm right and she's wrong. She's stubborn. Like me.

(Like us.)

Angry tears play under her irises and I swallow, therefore I couldn't see her cry, couldn't see _me _to be the source of her tears, and I walk forward, forward to the sphere she hides in but when I try to reach her with my hand she moves away, out from the kitchen.

_She really is childish. _

And it feels awful.

Her steps are long and determined and she opens the door to her room, slinking in. When I try to follow her she slams the door in my face, the tense air from the impeachments and broken promises.

_My broken promises. _

I'm an awful, awful person. And she's an awful, awful person who chooses me and throws Jacob away, even though everything he has given up in order to treat her like a princess.

Wait a second, am I actually defending this guy?

I open the door and walk in, founding her lying uncomfortable in the bed with the sheet over her legs. She looks up when I approach, her face lacked expression, like all her feelings died in those short seconds that got spilled.

"Bella, you-"

"Leave me _alone_," she grits, tugging the sheet closer to her face, as if she wants to hide from me.

_That isn't strange. Not at all. _

Bella.

No matter what you are, no matter that I would rather die than see you slip through my fingers like dewdrops.

You can't do this.

Bella.

You can't run away when reality strikes at you, because in the end it will only make you wobble and fall into the abbey of denial.

_You can't do this_.

"Have you seen Jacob? Do you know who he is?"

She tucks with the edge of the white sheet, to entertain her pale, pale fingers. "He's my best friend."

"Your best friend who actually is _in love _with you."

A tear rolls down her cheek and she angrily wipes it away, the blank puddle glowing on her nail. "Why do you sound so accusatorially?" Her voice is thin like a nail, slowly falling and vanishing where no one could hear it anymore.

"Because Jacob is broken."

"It's not _my _fault!" she snarls while enhancing her voice, digging deeper into the denial.

_Once more. She's good at that. _

Ignoring the obvious. Like me.

"I don't mean it like that," I tell her, while leaning back at the cold wall, staring at the pouring rain outside since I don't want to see the anger (and sadness) in her otherwise so warm eyes.

_But he- But he- _

I can't continue the sentence.

_Who says that? You? Come on Edward, you can kill people but you can't say the truth to your girlfriend. _

_What's got into you?_

I don't know.

I gasp for air once more, forming the letters in my mind before letting them out. This time it works. "But you said to Jacob that you loved him, didn't you? And then he thinks the fight for you is still on. Because he thinks that you one day may leave me and come to him. And you can't blame him. Love is like that. Hope is the last that leaves the sea. That's why we're here. Together."

She rises up from the bed, staring at me with an expression impossible to render while the brown hair sticks out from her head like a broom. Her eyes are bloodshot, big and vulnerable.

_I hate doing this to her. But someone has to. She can't remain a child. _

Not forever.

"I don't want you to fight about me," she murmurs while biting on her fingernail, moving down from the bed, going straight for me. "I don't want you to do that. Do you understand?"

_Do you understand? Like this is my fault?_

Maybe it is.

"It's love, Bella and now I understand that what he feels for you is as strong as what I'm feeling. Before I thought he was childish and insentitive that had to accept that you wanted me but now I understand that he has a reason for it. I don't say that you _should _go back to him, but you must understand that he's going through."

"He was sad even before I told him-"

"No," I snap, not angrily but firm because she can't hide in her own fairytales where the princess never does anything wrong anymore. "It has grown. Before he thought that it was between him and me. Then he started to understand that you wanted me instead of him. Then you told him that you loved him. His hope came back. You chose me. This isn't easy for him."

I'm trying so hard not to sound accusing but as always when you speak with Bella she can't see this. She only sees this, that I'm accuse her for slowly destroying her best friend to white dust (she is) and there is nothing I can do about this.

"Why are you defending him?" she cries while tears are rolling down her cheeks, tries to shove me from the door (I move away freely.) "Why, Edward? Why?"

"Because this is your fault," I murmur and feel worse than I have for weeks, worse than I were killing an animal, worse than when I was talking with Jacob…

_Worse…Worse… _

"This is our fault."

"No, no," she screams and runs out from the room, the last sentence crowded and damped when it crawls through the thick walls. "I don't want to hear it. I don't want to hear it."

I stand there. Looking. Knowing.

_She will never learn from her mistakes. _

And I wonder if that also is my fault.

* * *

the end


End file.
